I pushed open the door. As I walked in, a mellow vanilla scent mixed with some sort of fresh flower that I do not know the name of started to hit my nasal slowly. I can almost taste it as the aroma raced up into my brain; it’s almost as if it could be one of Starbuck’s fruit-flavored tea drink. I hit the lamp switch on the wooden table and the room became a sunset. There were no visible dirty clothes around and the closet and cabinet were shut tight. There was another table, the size of a school desk on the other side of the empty queen-sized bed, which carried tons of jewelry, hanging on little hooks made of stainless steel. The couch on the corner of the room seemed to be the color of a peach, but it could also be a tomato color since the room gave a different vibe of color. The zebra wall only had a calendar hanging from it with no posters at all. It was quiet like a street at four in the morning in there and the only sound I could hear was from the lace-curtained window of the occasional cars that were swooshing by.

This entry is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International license.